


Bright Red Lanterns

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Festivals, Gen, M/M, mid-autumn festival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Prompt: <i>[ Mid-Autumn Festival is a Chinese — and apparently Vietnamese? didn't know that — harvest festival; the Wikipedia article goes a lot more in-depth. ]</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>I honestly don't care about pairing, platonic or romantic; I just really want to see characters from Supernatural celebrating it with moon cakes, whether that be an annual tradition for them, or just Hey, these were at the local Chinese supermarket and why not try some of these?</i></p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>[ Seeing as Tran's a Vietnamese name, though, something relating to our favourite AP prophet would probably make the most sense. ]</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright Red Lanterns

Kevin sighed for the fifth time, eyes downcast as he gazed down at his papers. The pen between his fingers seemed to tremble as the young man sat at the desk, unable to write, unable to work on the physics questions assigned to him. The questions seemed difficult, his brain unable to process simple words. It had just been so _long_ since he last did physics, but his mother insisted that it would make him feel better. Return a bit of normality to their ridiculous lives, running from demons and hiding from all of Heaven’s angels.

“What’s got you so down?”

…Well, hiding from almost all of Heaven’s angels.

Kevin twisted around in his seat, showing the worksheet to the blond angel who sat perched on his bed, blue eyes wide as they quickly read the questions. He watched as the angel’s eyes widened at them, his mouth falling open at the complexity of the problems.

“I…” Samandriel paused, “I think you must be very intelligent to understand these.”

Kevin shrugged, dropped his pen. It hit the floor, the sound echoing a bit against the concrete.  He felt drained, his body heavy, his eyes drooping in his fatigue. The bone-deep weariness wouldn’t leave him. Instead, it seemed to claw it him, drawing energy from every crevice it touched inside of him.

“Do you know what day it is?”

The prophet lifted his head, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “No, I really don’t. Why?”

“It’s September 30th?”

“So? What’s your point?”

Samandriel frowned, his eyes suddenly seeming so sad. He then stood, reaching down to pluck the pen off the ground. He seemed to maul over his thoughts for a moment, looming over the prophet with uncertainty in his eyes. “It’s the mid-autumn festival today.”

Kevin sighed, nodding his head. “Oh. That. Haha, I guess with your God and all, the stories based off that are untrue. I guess my whole culture’s just a big lie-“

“Don’t say that.” Kevin snapped his head up to the angel, whose face seemed to have grown an angry expression. He took a deep breathe, the tense look on his face slowly fading. “Don’t say that. There are many gods, Pagan gods, Asian gods, all sorts of creatures you can’t yet imagine. I’m sure your stories are just as true as our own.”

The angel with the Wiener Hut hat patted Kevin’s head, smoothing out the black hair. A thoughtful expression replaced the tense one, the blond relaxing. Then, with a jolt, he two suddenly found themselves in the middle of a busy street. All around them were hundreds of voices, echoing incomprehensible words. People pushed against them, ramming into them from all sides.

“Zhongqiu jie kuai le! Kuai lai mai yue bing!”

“Lai a, lai a! Xiao hai lai bisai!

Kevin whipped his head back and forth, eyes wide. China. He was in the middle of _China_ , on the thirtieth of _September._ Mid-autumn festival. In. China.

“I- You just- What.”

“I know you’re Vietnamese,” Samandriel started, looking sheepish as he scratched the back of his head, “but China’s always pretty lively about it. And I doubt you’ve been here before. It’s better than celebrating on the other side of the world, what with all the demons lurking there because of Crowley. I thought…”

“Thank you.”

Samandriel snapped his head up, eyes widening at the smile on the prophet’s face. It was the first time he had seen him smile fully. It wasn’t one of the quirky smiles that were flashed in a brief second, and it wasn’t one of the ones that were filled with pain and longing for a life he had lost. It was a full smile, filled with gratitude and happiness. And it warmed the angel’s heart to see it.

The angel couldn’t help but smile back. He patted Kevin’s shoulder. “Well, then, I’m not too familiar with this… sort of festivity. Why don’t you take the lead?”

The Vietnamese nodded, grinning from cheek to cheek. He started to pick his way through the crowds, his steps lighter than they had been in what felt like years.  The energy of the crowds warmed his battered heart, the glow of the red lanterns healing him, if only momentarily.

“I feel as though Hằng Nga is watching over us here,” the prophet murmured, “protecting over the people just like she protected us thousands of years ago.”

The angel let out a quiet “hmm” of agreement, letting the young prophet guide him towards a stall selling mooncakes. Kevin searched his pockets, digging around for money that he didn’t have. Samandriel shook his head, his smile fond as he pulled out a few hundred yuan, He paid to the treats, surprised by the shine in Kevin’s eyes when he gave the small cake to him.

“Bánh trung thu,” the Asian smiled, taking a small bite from the mooncake, “that’s what we call them, in Vietnamese.”

“Really? I’ve only ever heard it being called ‘ _yuebing_.” Samandriel replied, biting into his own cake. It was sweet, almost unbearably sweet, the lotus paste being a taste he had never experienced before. It was strange, yet delicious.

“That’s they’re name in Mandarin: moon cake, I thought you’d know that.”

“I’m an angel – I’m not omnipotent.”

Kevin laughed, though his attention was caught by dancing lions, with bright red, green and white sequin pelts. The pair watched with rapt attention as the men under the costume jumped, and danced, moving in sync to the harsh, strict rhythm of drums.

The prophet slowly came to lean on the angel, forced by the ever, moving crowds. Silently, Samandriel placed a quick, chaste kiss on the top of Kevin’s head, so fast and soft that the human didn’t even notice. Later, when Kevin was tired from the festival, and only after he’d seen the bright fire flowers explode in the sky, would Samandriel bring the boy back to his mother, in an abandoned warehouse secure and far from the Winchesters and the disastrous demons that would further break the poor young man.

But until then, Samandriel would keep guard over the young prophet, and he would make him smile and enjoy what little he could still enjoy.

After all, the prophet was blessed by God himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm Chinese, so writing this brought back many fond memories for me. I really enjoyed writing this!~
> 
> Translations:  
>  _Zhongqiu jie kuai le! Kuai lai mai yue bing!_  
>  It's the Mid-Autumn Festival! Hurry and buy mooncake!
> 
> _“Lai a, lai a! Xiao hai lai bisai!_  
>  Come, come! Children come play games!


End file.
